The Song Of Skyrim
by TheWildFool2011
Summary: A Bosmer is captured by the Imperials, along with three unsuspecting Nords, one turning out to be the Jarl of Windhelm and a murder. He is placed in a difficult spot when he is forced to choose between two fighting forces when a dragon attacks.
1. Prologue: Lost Traveler

_**Songs Of Skyrim**_

_By: TheWildFool2011_

_**(I do not own The Elder Scrolls, nor the characters. I do however own my Wood Elf character and any other characters I make up.)**_

Jazaakarr walked throughout the snow felt woods. He had been traveling throughout Tamerial as a punishment from his village elders in Valenwood. His twin brother decided to tag along with him, saying it was too dangerous for him to be out on his own. The only things they was given was a journal, daggers and one magic spell tome.

There were about forty-five journal entries within the book. He had also obtained many neat items that he thought the village elders would like. He had been to Elsweyr a place he really wasn't too fond of, but the Khajiit was nice too him. He had meet a certain friend there that wanted to travel across all Tamerial with him and his twin brother.

The Khajiit's name was R'aaza. It wasn't too come for the cat folk to have his type of name. He would even go on to explain times where people told him that he must had spelled his own name wrong, but in the end he was right. Within his village he was worshiped, they would always call him the _chosen Khajiit_.

From the strange village of R'aaza, The three continued on north, to reach Cyrodiil. His brother had gotten them into numerous amounts of trouble within the Imperial City. With all the time they had spent in Cyrodiil, they had been jailed over a total of sixteen times. All crimes were listed as petty theft and break ins, all were done by his twin brother. But since they all traveled together they all got the same punishment. Which just happened to be jail. The jailed Jazaakarr resided in happened to be the same one that the hero of Cyrodiil had resided in, or as they would also call him the Grand-champion of Cyrodiil.

R'aaza had taken the two to some place that were famous. First Kvatch, which was known for where the first Oblivion gate appeared. Then he dragged the two elves to Cheydinhal, a place where the Dark Brotherhoods hide out was located. They then headed to the Battle sight, where a well-known fighter of the Blades named Jauffre fought against those who arose from the Oblivion gate. He was also the grandmaster of the Blades and was said to await the next Dragonborn until his death at Cloud Ruler Temple.

They finally arrive within the province of Skyrim. The only problem they had was getting separate from each other. Jazaakarr's twin was the first to get separated when they were being chased by a bear and then R'aaza by a pack of wolves. Jazaakarr wondered the cold forest be himself.

Jazaakarr sighed as he stopped. There he stood in the middle of a forest that looked similar to the one he had walked through not to long ago. "What in oblivion is going on?! I've been walking in circles for hours…"

He looked up at the sky. It wasn't too wise to be traveling throughout Skyrim at night time, the stories he had heard in Bruma proved the dangers of traveling alone. He sighed heavily, "At this rate I'll never find the others and reach my mark…"

He stuffed the map back into his side pocket. He started back up his seemingly useless walking. He continued to push himself through the worsening weather. He silently prayed to himself, hoping that his brother and friend were safe.

The forest looked safe enough to tread through on his own. However, his clothing was not much help in keeping him warm. He soon stumbled upon a small enclave of a overly large rock and took refugee there. He wrapped his torn cloak around his small frame and curled up, thinking of his brother.

**_'Where ever you are...may the gods keep you safe,_**** brother.'**


	2. Orders Of The Captain

**_Songs Of Skyrim_**

By: TheWildFool2011

_**(I do not own The Elder Scrolls, nor the characters. I do however own my Wood Elf character and any other characters I make up.)**_

It had felt as if he was in a dream. The small elf felt another bump, but he tried to ignore it. It happened a few more times. It was then he had opened his eyes to the bright, yet dim light that shone over the iced lands of Skyrim. He tried to move his hands to to stretch out, but found they were tightly bound. He spent little time trying to unbound his hands from each other, feeling slightly trapped.

**_'Wait...I'm on a-?!'_**

"Hey...you." The booming voice startled him slightly, it sounded vaguely familiar. He looked across from him to his left to see a very unfamiliar face. He almost pouted for a moment but, masked it easily. The man began to speak again, "You're finally awake. Looks like you were trying to cross the border, eh?" The Bosmer stayed silent and stared at the Nord as he continued, "Walked right into an Imperial ambush, same as us...and that thief over there..." The Nord turned to look at his left.

His gaze shifted. There was hardly a major difference between the two. They were both Nords. Except, one was much more cleaner and armored, while the other wore nothing but, rags and was dirty from head to toe. They caught each other eyes, the Nord glaring daggers at me, then shifted his gaze to the Nord beside him.

"Damn, you Stormcloaks!" He hissed and gritted his teeth. "Skyrim was fine, until you came along! The Empire was nice and lazy..." he looked down at his binds and gave one tug. Shaking his head, he continued to speak, "If they hadn't be looking for you, I could have stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell." He grinned almost, but it quickly went away as he looked me in the eyes, with slight fear and desperation. "...You and me, we shouldn't be here! It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants."

The Bosmer was going to say something, but was interrupted when the Nord next to the thief laughed loudly. The elf almost cringed at the hopeless laugh.

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief..." the Nord stated as he shook his head hopelessly. It had almost sounded snide in a way, or at least to the Bosmer it did. A brief silence was about to settle in when he heard struggling from another person beside him. He didn't bother to look up, even as the others did.

"Shut up back there!" The Imperial snapped at them.

The thief stared long and hard at the Nord across from him. The Nord had seem angered by something. He was gagged and his dirty blonde hair hung long, as the elf was unable to see his eyes. To him, he wasn't giving off a good atmospheric vibe. He had known, something was terribly wrong and he had to somehow escape, but he tried desperately to shove the thought to the back of his mind. All he really had set on his mind, was finding his way out of trouble and looking for his brother and friend, and continuing his journey.

"What's his problem?" he asked sounding more nervous than ever.

"Watch your tongue! You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!" The Nord in arm scolded the thief. He glared at the thief, almost ready to kill him at any moment if he said the wrong words.

The thief's expression worsened, changing from a complete nervous wreck to utter fear. He looked as if he almost held his breath as he stared at the man named 'Ulfric Stormcloak', his bottom lip trembled. "Ulfric, the Jarl of Windhelm?" he exclaimed in slightly disbelief. All hope had drained from his person, "You're the leader of the rebellion. But, if they've captured you...oh gods!" He nearly shouted as shook from head to toe, "Where are they taking us?!"

The Nord next to the thief shook his head, with a small smile. "I don't know where we're going," he paused for a moment, taking in the scent of the surroundings, "but Sovngarde awaits." He looked downwards at his bounds and made no attempt to try and break free of them.

The Bosmer had almost felt slightly awkward in this situation. Sure, he had gotten into trouble in his own homeland Valenwood, but he had never been in this situation. Not even the punishment of Cyrodiil could prepare him for this. He knew nothing of this _Sovngarde _the Nord spoke of, nor _Stormcloaks_. He did, however, know the growing anxiousness within him was going crazy. He tried to look at the surroundings, taking in the beauty of Skyrim's trees and the sounds of the animals. But nothing, could calm him down as they neared deaths gate.

The Nord with armor spoke once again, looking at the thief, with a less than weary glance. "Hey, what village are you from, horse thief?" he asked calmly. He bore a smile upon his face. It nearly scared the elf. Who would find their impending doom... acceptable? Who would smile in the face of death? The Bosmer, gritted his teeth with a inward sigh.

"Why do you care?!" the thief snapped.

The Nord frowned, speaking softly, "A Nord's last thoughts should be of home."

A brief silence settled. Thief looked on at the fellow Nord with a frown on his own face. "Rorikstead." He answered calmly taking a breath, "I'm from Rorikstead..."

As soon as the thief had answered the question, they had all stepped within the bounds of a tiny village. Though their carriage was behind, the Bosmer knew. There were many Imperials standing around, even overhead on the stone bridge-way.

Families within the village stared on at the carts that moved through their home. Almost all with excitement and eagerness, others with pure hatred.

"General Tullius, sir!" An Imperial shouted loudly, "The headsman is waiting!"

"Good, lets get this over with," the late-middle aged man grunted irritably, yet satisfied. His armor shone brightly, when the sunlight glared. It almost hurt the elf's eyes.

"Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh..." the thief lifted his gaze from the village to the sky's, "Divines, please help me!"

The small, unknown, village came into their full view. The Bosmer did well to take in the new sight, and smells. However, there was something unsettling that caught his eye as they were being strolled through the village. There, stood, a Altmer, dressed in what seemed to be the infamous robes of the Thalmor that he had heard of and saw back in his homeland. He hated the Altmer as much as he did the Dunmer. Most of the Thalmor was sent to his homeland to keep _'peace' _and _'order' _as they so call it. But it was nothing much than they Bosmer, being overtaken by the taller elves, which seemed to put a huge damper on the relations between them.

"Look at him!" The Nord in armor exclaimed, not to fondly. "General Tullius, the military governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him..." he sneered. "Damn elves, I bet they have something to do with this!" He fell silent, seemingly drifting off into his memories, "This...is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Wonder if Vilad is still making that mead with juniper berries." He sighed happily as he swam through his memories. "Funny...when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe."

The Bosmer's ear twitched as he heard a voice. He looked around the village and spotted a little boy. His facial expression was completely blank. A cool slate, he would call. He and the boy locked eyes for a moment. In the dark brown eyes, lied slight confusion.

The boy looked at his father, who leaned against the wooden railing of his front porch. "Who are they, daddy?"

"Go inside, little cub." The father stated as he looked back at the carriage. Back at the Bosmer. He glared in a hateful manner, but it did not bother the elf at all, as he to stared back at him.

"Why? I wanted to watch the soldiers." The boy frowned.

"Inside the house! Now!"

The boy looked down at his lap and then stood up. Nodding his head, he muttered. "Yes, father." Before he went inside, he looked back at the Bosmer's carriage, one last time and then looked at the soldiers.

"Why are we stopping?" the thief asked simple mindedly.

"Why do you think?" The armored Nord, blared the question back at him. "End of the line. Let's go. Shouldn't keep the gods waiting." He murmured seldomly.

"No, wait! We're not rebels!" The thief shouted, trying to reason with the Imperials. The Bosmer shook his head, with a small smile on his face.

"Face your death with some courage, thief."

The man by the name of Ulfric was the first to step down from the carriage. The thief, still bumbling took his turn, exiting the courage. For a thief, he was quite cowardly, the elf thought. Shaking his head, thinking that the thief could use a few pointers from a true thief, such as himself.

"You've got to tell them we weren't with you!" He shouted as he looked back at the Nord he had resided beside. His eyes filled with desperation and fear, "This is a mistake!"

The armored Nord looked up at the silent elf. The Bosmer looked up with a smile and then looked back at the thief and Ulfric's backs. The fear and anxiety that had built itself within the Bosmer had vanished. He had feeling of fear of the sort for what was to come. He stood up as the armored Nord hopped off the carriage.

The groups attention was quickly grabbed by an Imperial female officer. "Step toward the block as we call your name." she looked in the Bosmer's direction, noticing that he was a little to close to his carriage-mate, "One at a time." Her face shifted to anger.

"Empire loves their damned lists..." the armored Nord muttered with a blank expression. The Bosmer glance at him, before turning his attention to the situation in front of him.

"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm!" An Imperial soldier announced as he checked off the name on his list.

"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric..."

"Ralof of Riverwood," the soldier crossed the name off. The armored Nord that had been in the carriage with the Bosmer the whole time, had stepped to the other side, with Ulfric and the other Stormcloaks. "Lokir of Rorikstead."

The bumbling thief had finally stepped forward to his ultimate end. "N-no! I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!" In a half desperate and stupid action the thief had dash straight towards his _exit_.

"Halt!" The strong Imperial female soldier ordered.

All while he taunted the Imperial archers and soldier with a smirk on his face, "You're not going to kill me!"

At the Imperial officer's whim. Her hand was raised to the sky, above her head. "Archers!" Within less than a second, Lokir lied, face down with an arrow sticking out of his back. She turned to the rest of the group that had yet to have their names called, "Anyone else feel like running?"

The Bosmer found it...unfitting for a thief to come to an end such as Lokir. The elf threw his head to the side looking down, he knew he was next. There was no one else in the Imperial's line of sight except for him. He took in a shaky breath, hands trembling more than before. He thought to himself...how strange it had been that his fear had disappeared, yet he stood before the Empire's puppets shaking like a a frightened animal. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fist.

**_'No! No matter what...I won't be afraid. I have to get through this...for him...'_**

The Bosmer almost jumped several feet in the air, when he heard the voice in front of him. "Wait...you there." The Imperial Nord pointed at the elf. "Step forward..." the elf looked the Nord in the eyes. They were cold, but no hate were behind them, or at least it did not show. "Who...are you?" He asked calmly.

The Bosmer swallowed hard as he licked his lips, applying moisture. "I...I'm..." he sighed trying to clear his head of his brother and friend. "...Faolan." He exclaimed in a huff, and adverted his gaze to the ground.

"Not many Wood Elves would choose to come alone to Skyrim." The Nord sneered almost as he smirked. His smirk disappeared when he look at the female Imperial. "Captain, what should we do? He's not on the list."

"Forget the list! He goes to the block to." She snapped as she settled her hand on the hilt of her sword.

Almost reluctantly he nodded, "By your orders, Captain." Turning to Faolan, the Nord frowned, "I'm sorry. We'll make sure your remains are returned to Valenwood. Please...follow the Captain." He watched as Faolan turned heels and followed the female officer. He almost felt bad for the little elf being dragged into the mess. But, alas there was nothing he could do.


End file.
